


Perfect Form

by Lacerta26



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Autofellatio, Gymnastics, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-08-04 15:03:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16348949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lacerta26/pseuds/Lacerta26
Summary: For all everyone likes to make assumptions Eggsy’s ability to get his feet behind his head it doesn’t come up all that often in the bedroom and Harry is currently struggling to remember why. Harry may be getting on a bit but what he lacks in double-jointedness and apparent imperviousness to gravity he more than makes up for in experience. And Eggsy’s is a body to be experienced. Preferably immediately.





	Perfect Form

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this with my own two hands so now you have to read it with your own two eyes.
> 
> Possibly highly physically improbable, don't try this at home and put your back out.

Harry has decided, at the grand age of 53, to not look a gift horse in the mouth. He is far too lucky to have lived this long to waste time counting his blessings; they are, generally speaking, abundant, the high likelihood of dying notwithstanding. One of his many blessings comes in the form of Eggsy; smart, funny, kinder and more forgiving than Harry has ever found himself to be and thankfully far more grown up about the asking out with a view to getting off and maybe falling in love business. Harry may well have never quite got beyond the pining stage certain as he was that his age and position would preclude Eggsy from ever returning his affections. 

Eggsy, as it happened, had given him two weeks to recuperate after Harry had returned to work, from being shot in the head and laid up with a coma for 3 months, before marching into Arthur’s – Harry’s – office all smiles and dimples and lowered lashes saying, ‘Harry, we should go on a date, yeah?’ with a confidence that betrayed how put on his nerves were. Harry had been so shocked he’d said, ‘yes?’ reflexively and had been quite overcome when Eggsy rounded the desk with a, ‘get in!’ before snogging him stupid.

Rather more rumpled than they’d been when they started Eggsy left to carry on with the rest of his day saying, ‘I was gonna ask if you fancied a bit of Netflix and chill but Merlin said you wouldn’t know what that meant,’ and a wink. A quick google ensured Harry was up to speed on the probable outcome of their first date and subsequent honeymoon period which seems to be showing no chance of stopping. They argue, sure, but get over it quickly; it’s hard to stay mad at someone who might not come home from a trip to the office. Eggsy is magnanimous and easy to get along with and Harry, for his part, is always attempting to shake off the ingrained habits of 20 years alone. They look after each other, make each other laugh and it is, as Merlin assured them it would be, easy.

The hardships of dating your fantastically beautiful colleague who is nearly 30 years your junior don’t come up too often but when they do Harry has trouble identifying them as truly difficult ending as they so often do with marathon shagging sessions. The propensity of their colleagues to gossip and tease being chief among their irritations it seems churlish to complain. So, when Merlin pings Harry a message to pop down to the gym when he has a moment Harry can be fairly sure it’ll be a ruse to embarrass him somehow. Harry knows Eggsy was planning to hit the gym today and there’s no reason he or Merlin should need to be down there. Through the window of his office Harry can see the current batch of fresh, eager recruits running laps on the lawn, totally pointlessly if Merlin has left them to it. Merlin delights in calling Harry a dirty old man but he’s a hypocrite if he’s already as the gym, taking a break from his usual occupation of perving on the entire organisation to perv on one agent in particular. Glass houses and all that. Of course, if Eggsy’s at the gym it’s likely that Roxanne has joined him and she is far more likely to have drawn Merlin’s interest, not that he would admit as much.

 

Roxanne _is_ at the gym, fully buttoned up in hoodie and tracksuit bottoms, stood next to Merlin, watching Eggsy. Harry knows how physically capable Eggsy is. Has seen him on missions and doing his usual exercise routine. He’s seen him naked for Christ’s sake. Loads of times. But this, this is something else. This make his mouth goes dry and his palms go sweaty. Eggsy’s wearing some sort of ridiculous skin tight leotard that leaves nothing to the imagination as he tucks and somersaults and flips in the empty space in the middle of the room. Why has he never properly seen Eggsy’s gymnastic ability before, all laid out for him in a perfect elegant routine?

‘We thought you might like to see what your boy has been up to,’ says Merlin, smirking. Anyone who says Kingsman is run by Arthur and not Merlin is an idiot. Harry still looks imperiously at him, fooling exactly nobody, ‘did you now.’

At the sound of voices Eggsy stops throwing himself around the room, lands a spectacularly tricky looking double aerial flip and grins broadly at them. For all everyone likes to make assumptions Eggsy’s ability to get his feet behind his head it doesn’t come up all that often in the bedroom and Harry is currently struggling to remember why. Harry may be getting on a bit but what he lacks in double-jointedness and apparent imperviousness to gravity he more than makes up for in experience. And Eggsy’s is a body to be experienced. Preferably immediately.

‘Merlin, I believe the new recruits are waiting for you outside,’ he says, ‘and Roxanne what was that I heard about you needing to file your latest mission report by 5pm?’ He doesn’t even look at them, keeps his eyes trained on Eggsy who’s still breathing hard, chest shiny with sweat, and listens to Merlin snorting with barely restrained laughter as they leave. Eggsy sidles up to him and this time his smirk is anything but decent.

‘Hello, Harry,’ he says pressing himself none too subtly to Harry’s side, ‘liked my routine, did you?’

Harry smiles indulgently, letting his hands fall on Eggsy’s trim waist, compact and firm in a way Harry finds impossible to attain these days. 

‘You know I did. Although why I got an invitation to come and watch from Merlin rather than you is beyond me.’ He says this with a smile into Eggsy’s hair and Eggsy gives him a one shouldered shrug, ‘I was only mucking about. Rox was in here already and Merlin came by to ask us to help out with the new recruits. I could do the routine proper for you now if you want?’

Does he want? Generally, with Eggsy the answer’s always yes but now he has his hands on him, gloriously sweaty and flushed, he doesn’t want to let go.’

‘How about instead we head home and you show me how flexible you can be in private?’

Eggsy chuckles, rolls his eyes, but presses himself harder against Harry in a lithe little wiggle that’s all tease. ‘You sure? It’s only 4.30. You reckon the boss’ll mind if I skive off early?'

‘I’m sure he would only be too happy to give you special dispensation.’

Eggsy grins and disengages himself from Harry’s arms, ‘go on then, let me get changed yeah? Might as well add preferential treatment to all the gossip about us,’ and dashes off to the showers with a wink. 

Harry leans heavily on a pommel horse and tries to will his erection into something like submission. He still has to make it through Eggsy showering and changing, the bullet train back to London and the cab ride home. There’s no sense it getting quite so worked up just yet although his control is tested when Eggsy comes out of the showers 15 minutes later looking flushed and a little damp at the edges, hair sticking up like he’s been running his hands through it. He looks pretty well fucked already and while Harry is loath to encourage the gossip that goes on about their relationship he has to admit it does look good on him and a guilty thrill goes down his spine at the idea that people might see and what they’ll think. As it is Harry takes Eggsy’s hand on the way out of the gym and in the corridors heading to the bullet train they mercifully don’t bump into anyone, obvious as it is what they’re up to.

 

Eggsy, distracted briefly by JB, seems to have forgotten the reason for their early return home, ensconcing himself on the sofa and reaching for the remote so Harry has no choice but to step up behind him, hands sliding down Eggsy’s chest, stomach, slipping under the waistband of his tracksuit, no pants, he did know what was on the cards, and press kisses into his hair.

‘What do you want, old man?’

‘I believe you may have made certain promises,’ he closes his hand round the base of Eggsy’s dick, already half hard, and gives it a squeeze.

‘Yeah, wanna see how bendy I am? Wanna see me put my feet behind my head?’ he lifts his hips into Harry’s loose grip, chasing the sensation, ‘wanna watch me suck my own cock?’

And that’s. Well. A little silly? Harry wants to laugh even as his dick twitches. What is it that’s got him going? The desperation to suck a dick? To have ones dick sucked you’ll it yourself? The dirty little feedback loop Eggsy will create with his perfect body, needing no input from anyone, no need for Harry to even be there. Eggsy’s body seems created so perfectly for pleasure, so inexplicably attuned to what turns Harry on he might have walked out of one of Harry’s dirtiest fantasies; all golden skin, sharp jawline and thick, strong limbs. That Eggsy seems equally besotted with Harry, his long legs, greying temples, the breath of his shoulders and the narrowness of his waist, surprises Harry on the occasions Eggsy get particularly vocal about it but these would be the blessings he’s vowed not to count so he takes the compliments with good grace and accepts he really _is_ that lucky.

What he says, because he wouldn’t want Eggsy to feel like he has to do something that must be quite awkward and uncomfortable is, ‘isn’t that all a bit sexier than theory than in practice?’

Eggsy definitely rolls his eyes even though Harry can’t see and presses his head back onto Harry’s stomach, tips his hips into the hand Harry hasn’t stopped moving on his dick, leaking now, dampening the front of his tracksuit.

‘I’m offerin’ ain’t I? It’s only as awkward as shaggin’ is generally. And if it turns you on I wanna. You ever seen anyone do it before, in the flesh like?’

‘No,’ and that’ll be it. Harry has introduced Eggsy to so many things in bed, and out of it, by dint of the increased experience that comes with advancing age. If Eggsy has a chance to show him something Harry’s not seen before there’ll be no stopping him and just like that Eggsy’s jumping up off the sofa and dashing towards the stairs. Harry follows, conceding the point that yes, he would very much like to watch Eggsy suck his own dick if at all possible. Come on, he’s only human. 

Eggsy does at least wait for Harry at the bottom of the stairs to reel him in for a proper snog, standing on the first step so their height difference is not so obvious. Harry gets his hands on Eggsy’s waist and hefts him into his arms; he doesn’t spend all that time at the gym for nothing, still has a few tricks up his sleeves and he knows Eggsy loves to be picked up and carried around like it’s nothing. Gets off on it if anything and right on cue Eggsy moans into his mouth, feet digging into Harry’s arse. Harry does have to put his back down then; carrying him up the stairs might be more of a challenge than he’s willing to attempt with all his blood rushing south. He gives Eggsy a pinch on the bum to spur him on as they head up towards the bedroom.

Watching Eggsy undress is one of Harry’s favourite pastimes. The causal efficiency of stripping out of tracksuit bottoms and t-shirt in contrast to the methodical way Harry climbs out of his suit like climbing out of armour. Eggsy taking off a suit is also divine; insouciant and torturous, like a school boy slowing breaking all the school uniform rules. Today, though, Harry doesn’t have the time to watch. He hangs his suit up carefully, chucks his shirt and underwear in the laundry basket in time to turn back to Eggsy, naked now, and sprawled on their bed. Eggsy spreads his legs and Harry takes the invitation as it’s meant, climbs up on to the bed and settles in the cradle of Eggsy’s hips, rocking their cocks together. Eggsy pouts, asking for a kiss, bites at Harry’s lips until Harry opens his mouth for the velvet-wet slide of Eggsy’s tongue against his. 

Harry’s been half hard for so long, hours, that this first press of their dicks is driving him to the edge faster than usual. Hot little breaths are punching out of him unbidden at every twist of Eggsy’s hips beneath him and he has to close his eyes, re-centre, to drag himself back from the brink. When he opens his eyes again, Eggsy is looking up at him, cheeks flushed and eyelashes damp, looking far too composed for the fuck they’ve been promising each other all afternoon.

‘Had a wank in the shower,’ he admits, as if he can read Harry’s thoughts.

‘You incorrigible tart,’ he says, shifting so he can press kisses to Eggsy’s throat, a scrape of teeth across his sternum, stomach. He gifts one lingering kiss to the head of Eggsy’s dick, savours the taste he finds there before sitting back with a raised eyebrow, _show me what you’ve got._

Eggsy’s eyes go dark, heated with challenge, as he settles himself against the headboard, a pillow under his hips. He gives his cock a few final strokes before tipping his hips back, curling into a tuck like he’s about to do a backwards somersault, arm hooked under a knee, hand on the base of his dick, hard and straining towards his mouth. For a moment, Harry thinks he won’t be able to do it but then Eggsy’s abs tense, his thighs shake, the tendons in his neck stand out and then his lips close around the head of his dick, taking the first few inches into his mouth. His eyes, locked on Harry, flutter closed as he moans low in his throat; the hot, wet touch of tongue to the head of his dick bypassing the awkwardness of getting there in this way. Harry looks, enraptured, all of Eggsy’s body opened up to him at this angle as Eggsy breathes out sharply through his nose, swallows and hollows his cheeks. Harry’s dick twitches, neglected, and he takes a hold of it for a few cursory stokes as Eggsy attempts to move, bent in half as he is, bobbing his head like some filthy Ouroboros, pleasuring himself for eternity.

And that is quite enough of hands free observation for Harry who feels he might come or have a heart attack just watching this glorious sight so he surges up the bed to press his face into Eggsy’s arse so invitingly accessible as it is like this. He breathes in the raw, sweaty scent of him, looks up into Eggsy’s wide open eyes and licks a broad stripe across the tight pucker of his hole. Eggsy hisses out a breath and unfurls, throwing his head back as his legs fall to Harry’s shoulders, arching up almost fully the other way to press himself against Harry’s mouth.

‘Shit, Harry, fuck,’ he says, voice raspy with need, from sucking his own cock and bending himself in half. Harry chuckles just to feel it reverberate through Eggsy’s body before shifting up to kiss him, licking the taste of Eggsy’s dick out of Eggsy’s mouth.

‘What else do you want? More?’ says Eggsy as if he hasn’t already done enough. 

‘Nothing. You’re perfect. Jesus Christ, Eggsy, I could die knowing I’d seen that.’

Eggsy laughs, pulling Harry closer, ‘that’s ‘cause you’re a grotty old perv.’

‘With you in my bed how could I be anything else? Tell me what you want, darling?’

Eggsy writhes against him, his cock leaving slick smears of precome across Harry’s belly, reminding him insistently that neither of them have actually come yet.

‘How about you show me what _you’ve_ got? Give me a proper seeing to?’

‘You seemed to be doing just fine on your own.’

‘Oh, piss off,’ says Eggsy grinning as he reaches for the lube on the bedside table and hands it to Harry who sits back to take Eggsy in, flushed, his cock red and dripping. Eggsy raises his eyebrows and hooks his hands under his knees to bend himself in half again and spread himself out for Harry, a treat and a challenge and Harry presses two fingers to the twitching rim of Eggsy’s hole, still wet from Harry’s mouth, until his eyes slide closed.

‘Yes, Harry, go on,’ he murmurs as Harry pushes his fingers inside, revelling in the feeling of Eggsy fluttering around him, his abs tense as his hips press down to fuck himself on Harry’s hand. Harry twists his wrist, glancing the pads of his fingers against Eggsy’s prostate. Eggsy’s eyes are screwed shut, a pretty blush spreading down his chest, making him look like a renaissance saint, ecstatic, to where his cock lays twitching at every pass of Harry’s fingers, steadily leaking, making his stomach glisten. Harry leans forward to run his tongue along the central groove of Eggsy abs, dragging his teeth over his chest, sucking gently on a nipple just to hear Eggsy keen. He coaxes Eggsy’s bottom lip out from between his teeth with a soft press of lips and tongue, distracts him with plush, wet kisses and slides a third finger into the grip of Eggsy’s body.

‘Harry, come on, fuck me, please,’ and if he’s begging Eggsy must already be close, this won’t last and neither of them have the patience to try and drag it out. Harry pulls Eggsy’s legs over his shoulders, then, and lines his cock up with Eggsy’s hole and thrusts inside in one quick stroke. Eggsy moans like he can’t believe how good this feels, the delicious escalation as they turn each other on with the shit that gets them off. He hooks his ankles together behind Harry’s neck, pushes himself up on his arms as Harry gets his knees under him, hands to Eggsy’s hips to pull him down on Harry’s cock in short, rapid thrusts, hitting his prostate on every stroke. 

‘Fuck, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come,’ Eggsy descends into incoherency as he works himself down on Harry’s cock, biceps flexing, fast and unrelenting. Harry is barely moving, hands firm to his hips, grounding, as Eggsy throws his head back and comes, cock untouched, long stripes of spunk covering his belly, chest. He doesn’t stop moving even as he must dip into oversensitivity, ‘come on, Harry, come on, I wanna feel you come, go on,’ and who is Harry to deny this glorious boy who indulges Harry’s whims with a wink and such gleeful enthusiasm, how can Harry meet him with anything else but the same? He thrusts once, twice, the pleasure-pressure of orgasm that has been building tips over and he’s coming, blinding, as Eggsy whispers endearments at him.

They ease slowly down to lying sprawled side by side on the bed, sweaty and sated until Eggsy rolls over to plaster himself to Harry’s side, grinning and sticky to demand soft, gentle kisses.

‘Fuck me,’ he says and Harry _resists,_ ‘I’m gonna get cramp if I don’t stretch. Do they have Olympics for shagging ‘cause I reckon we’d be a dead cert for a gold medal?’ Harry laughs indulgently as he watches Eggsy, stood next to the bed now, touch his toes, completely naked. Lord have mercy.

‘I think you might have to enter without me. I’m not sure I could keep up.’

‘Yeah? You’ll help me practice, though right? I can do all sorts; the splits, handstands…’ He grabs Eggsy by the wrist to pull him back to bed before he sends Harry to an early grave with a list of every ridiculous thing he can do with his body.

‘Darling, with you anything at all would be a blessing.’


End file.
